


Equinox Absconding

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 13:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19319341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: A retelling of the Hades and Persephone myth in which tales depicting the beauty of Spring have spread even to the underworld where they catch the attention of one who rules in the shadows.





	Equinox Absconding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chinarai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinarai/gifts).



> Written for a private ShikaSaku exchange event. Gotta post it now before I forget about it again. I had this finished like a month ago and then I forgot it existed, whoops!

i.

He’s hiding up in the branches of an apple tree covered in reluctant blossoms when they meet for the first time. Sakura isn’t sure what it is about the blossoms on the tree that put her in mind of reluctance, perhaps the way most of the petals have only half opened with many trying to curl back in to slumber, but it seems appropriate considering the sulking expression on the young god looking down at her. The shadows at her feet twist and snap with the desire to reach for the trunk but she holds them back for fear of withering even such a sleepy tree.

“Abed at noon,” she notes. “Except you appear to have misplaced your bed.”

“It’s my garden, I can sleep wherever I want.” The young god watches her from one eye, allowing the other to fall shut as though he intends to take half a nap.

Sakura whispers to her shadows to soothe them as she tilts her chin up to get a better look at this young man’s face. The God of Spring if she isn’t mistaken. Rumors rarely make their way to her in the underworld where she reigns but this man, this young god with his beautiful face and lazy flowers growing in his hair, she has heard of him more than once. They say he is divine to behold and that much is true, she thinks. But they also say that he is lazy and Sakura thinks with no small amount of amusement that rumors are always grounded in at least some truth. Nothing she has heard of this man has proved unfounded.

Under the looseness of his muscles where he lays draped between the branches, however, the one half-lidded eye that watches her is sharp with an intelligence that doesn’t just pique her interest – it holds her captive in the most wonderful of ways. She’s always appreciated a man with a proper head on his shoulders.

Mortal men are always such predictable disappointments in that area, feeble minds saturated with undeserved pride and always falling prey to one vice or another.

“Have I your permission to enter this garden?” Sakura asks. Being polite is as foreign and awkward as any other social interaction after the long seasons of being sequestered away with only the dead for company but even she knows that manners will get her farther than demands or flexing her muscles. It’s a disappointment to see one of his eyebrows quirk ever so slightly in a forbidding manner.

“No. Entertaining company is bothersome and all I want to do right now is take a nice long nap. The gardens are closed today.” With that he closes his second eye with a deliberateness that speaks to dismissal and Sakura is left gaping up at him.

“As you wish,” she murmurs.

It’s more shock than anything else that he could deny her so easily and for such a flimsy reason that has her bowing and turning away. To disrespect a fellow god in their own territory where their powers are strongest would not be the wisest course of action. Sakura isn’t stupid by half and she knows the tactical advantages in a well-timed retreat, how to use that time given to regroup and make new plans.

 

ii.

Only a month passes before Sakura finds herself once more standing at the entrance to the gardens brought forth by Yoshino, the Goddess of the Harvest and Fertility, to keep her son pleased and encourage him never to leave her side. Such strong maternal love isn’t something Sakura experienced for herself but she can imagine from the way the God of Spring gazes longingly in to the distance that it must be a heavy and suffocating burden to bear. Oh the things she would do to lift the burden from those drooping shoulders.

And the many more things she would do to keep those piercing eyes fixed on her and nothing else.

“I see that today is not a day for idling in the treetops,” she notes upon finding him spread out on a rock with his face tilted up to feel the sun’s warmth. Something in the languid lines of his body reminds her of a coiled spring. How fitting.

“Broke one of the branches,” he admits. “Mom was furious. She won’t let me back up there until the tree has healed and it’s way too troublesome to fight with her.”

“Are you often at odds with your matriarch?”

Instead of answering the young god sits up, sending a thrill down Sakura’s spine to have his full attention seemingly so easily, but then he frowns and cocks his head to one side in curiosity. “Your speech is _ancient_. No one talks like that anymore, you know that right? It makes you sound really stuffy.”

“You will find, I think, that I am not nearly so stuffy as you have judged me.”

Injured pride ripples through her and demands that she protest harder, prove herself to this young stripling that insults her so easily, but Sakura only breathes deeply and holds her temper with great effort. She can tell he’s aware of the blow he struck by the quirk of his lips. Anger aside, it is a triumph to have made him smile even if doing so was at her own expense. With his dark hair and all the secrets hiding behind that shadowed smile Sakura cannot help but think that he was born to follow her in to the underworld. Born or molded; it’s hard to tell with all the shenanigans that go on when the other members of the pantheon start mucking about with each other, a madness she prefers to stay well away from.

“Who said I was judging you? All I said was that it makes you _sound_ stuffy. It was advice, just in case you make a regular habit of going around and chatting up whatever men you find stuck in trees.” He arches one eyebrow and Sakura can feel the still heart in her chest crash painfully against her ribs. His face is all angles and each one of them is more beautiful than the last.

“Have I your permission to enter this garden?” she asks, feeling much more confident of his good will this time. Which is what makes it such a shock to once more see him closing his eyes and laying back down with a shake of his head.

“Nope. I really do just want to nap. This place is so boring.”

Sakura thinks she could make any plane of any world less boring for him if only he would let her try but she is the queen of the dead; despite her temper she is well aware the benefits to be found in patience.

“As you wish,” is all she says as her shadows twist and reach – and she is gone from the gardens a moment later.

 

iii.

They meet.

 

iv.

And they meet.

 

v.

And they meet again, always in the garden where he denies her entrance. By the third time she suspects that it is for no reason but his own amusement and by the fifth time she knows from the smile in his eyes as he catches sight of her yet again. Sakura thinks to herself that she would act all kinds of a fool to have that smile catch her in its light.

Today she is asked for no foolery but instead is greeted with a bit of laughter as the young god leans back against the branch he has settled himself on.

“You don’t give up, do you?” he calls down.

“I have been called tenacious by many,” she admits. Then with a teasing smile she adds, “Hardheaded by many others.”

“Troublesome.”

Laughter in his voice tells her that, although he may declare her troublesome, that does not mean he finds her unworthy of his company. As evidenced by the way he seems to pause and wait for the question she has asked him several times before. Sakura wonders why he appears eager to send her away so quickly this time but it is not for her to ask such things, only for her to say the words he so clearly expects.

“Have I your permissions to enter this garden?”

“Sure.”

Sakura blinks, a momentary pause that she recovers from quite nicely, in her opinion. Within seconds she is at his side as he heaves himself up like the effort will cost him a millennia of his life span and then they are walking. Each footstep touching upon the earth deliberate and slow. Sakura thrills to be so close to the one who has captured her interest so thoroughly.

“My name is Shikamaru,” he offers and it isn’t until he does that she first realizes she’s been avoiding using his name even in her thoughts.

“And mine is Sakura, queen of the damned, keeper of the gates to Tartarus and goddess of the underworld, tasked with guiding dead souls who have crossed the river Styx. It is my infinite pleasure to make your acquaintance.” For a moment she considers bowing but there is only one to whom she has ever bowed and, despite being the ruler of Olympus, Kakashi mostly doesn’t care for that sort of thing anyway.

“I already knew all that,” Shikamaru points out.

“Permit me this one chance to brag,” Sakura jests. “I so rarely meet any of the living that I haven’t before.”

For whatever reason her companion seems to find this incredibly amusing, poking gentle fun at her for being boring and a shut-in as they wander through the trees and the flowers that make up the garden where he spends his time. Sakura gives in after several minutes and points out that he counts as the same, no matter that his domain is infinitely prettier than her own. The brief wrinkling of his nose is enough to tell her that his stationary habits are less of his own desire and more due to outside restrictions.

She doesn’t think she is very far off the mark for guessing his mother as the cause.

Together they wander among the gardens, talking as easily as though they have known each other for eons, and Sakura makes careful note of every reaction to every mention of Yoshino. It wouldn’t do to act before she is sure – but by the time she leaves the garden she is more than sure.

And she is already making plans. It simply won’t do to allow Shikamaru to continue on in this stifled existence.

 

vi.

With a knowing look on her face Sakura looks Shikamaru directly in the eye as she steps in to his garden without asking permission. He shakes his head and turns away but she catches sight of the smile on his face and that is all the confidence she needs to stride boldly forward where she now knows she is more than welcome. Shikamaru gives off a rather ostentatious sigh and mumbles just loud enough for her to hear about bothersome guests and all the trouble it would be to evict them.

Sakura draws her shadows in close as she bends to admire some of the flowers growing near her, wisteria of the softest purples she has ever seen, and does her best to project a casual air when she speaks.

“I have often thought that my domain could use such colors but alas, I’ve no talent for growing myself. The touch of Death affects all mortal things.” And oh how she is grateful not to have given her heart away to a mortal. Too many times she has greeted the victims of that chaos at the gates of the underworld to ever become embroiled in the same idiocies.

“Are you trying to be subtle?” Shikamaru asks. “Because it’s not working.”

“Has my lack of subtlety affected your answer in any way?”

“Well I feel a bit more like laughing at you.” He grins and reaches close to her to pluck a gardenia close to the blossoms she had been admiring. It twirls between his fingers like spring on spring, growth in the hands of growth, and Sakura admires the petals’ dance while picturing the two of them dancing the same.

How ethereal he would look with that long hair of his let down to flow around his shoulders, a crown of bones to match her own all woven through with the flowers and fruits he holds such a deep connection to. Even her own hair, an ironic pink that stands out so stark against the darkness of her domain, cannot hope to hold a candle to the delicate shades of red that splash over Shikamaru’s cheeks when he catches her watching him so closely, hanging on his every word with genuine interest. His mind is as beautiful as the solid lines of his body and his conversation is as riveting as the depths of his deep, dark eyes.

Sakura looks upon her chosen and thinks to herself that he has eyes that were made for the underworld.

“You are not happy here,” she guesses. Shikamaru huffs.

“Mother’s always on about ‘ _do this_ ’ and ‘ _do that_ ’ or ‘ _you’ll never make a proper god unless you work hard at it_ ’. It’s all so boring.”

Daring to brush his fingers with her own, Sakura holds her palm just out of reach of the delicate flower in his grasp. “If you would allow me to, nothing would please me more than bringing you to a place where I believe you could be happy.”

“Sell me on it,” Shikamaru laughs.

“You need be nothing but what you already are – for who can improve upon perfection?” He laughs again when she winks playfully, one of her shadows coming up to tickle his chin. “A garden for your very own to make of it what you will, a palace of bone and fertile earth for you to grow and fill and call your home. A place at my side. Imagine, sweet Spring, the many eons you can spend dozing to your heart’s content in the warmth of the underworld with your head pillowed on my lap.” There are other things she has to give yet not many that she thinks might impress him. A greedy human, perhaps, might have been taken in by the endless riches she has collected over the millennia but Shikamaru is different from them – he possesses an actual brain in his head.

“Hm, is that all? I have a place to grow here, you know. Maybe not a palace but I make due.” He is only teasing, she can see that he has already been won over. Still she turns her body to face him and steps a little closer until her diminutive size demands that she tilt her chin to look up at him through her lashes.

“Books,” she whispers. “Entire civilizations that have risen only to fall, knowledge lost to all who walk the surface of the earth, tomes no mortal eyes have ever gazed upon. All of these I have read before and would be most happy to discuss with you once you have devoured them for yourself.”

No beast or creatures, no man or woman or god of any pantheon, none have ever looked at her quite like Shikamaru looks at her then, with joy in his eyes and the rapture of finding home.

Sakura finds that the feelings under her breast are so large that she cannot contain them without some form of expression. She delights in the look of wonder Shikamaru gives her as she turns and crashes her fist in to the earth, cracking it open until a great chasm stretches out before them. When she rights herself again she delicately brushes the dirt from her knuckles before turning to offer her hand to the god she is sure in the deepest reaches of her heart is meant for her and her alone.

“Come with me,” is her siren call.

His fingers slide in to hers with a mischievous smile and she is falling in love all over again.

 

vii.

Shikamaru _glows_ in the darkness of her lair. For all that his hair is as black as the earth around him Sakura cannot help but think that he brings light in to every room he wanders through, breathing life in to the afterworld in a way that leaves her desperate for more. Never in her memory has she craved the company of another quite like she does with Shikamaru.

His eyes are curious and for the first time since they met his body in anything but languorous as he wanders from one end of her palace to the other. His fingers test the soil where she has promised he may grow his garden and his pulse jumps in his throat to find the library, seemingly endless rows of priceless tomes, all of them just waiting for his eager mind. When he comes to a door that is plain and unremarkable he notes the anomaly and reaches to open it – only for Sakura to gently lay a hand over his and shake her head.

“Unless you wish to greet the souls of the dead I would advise another path.”

“Don’t want me to know every part of your life?” he asks. “And here I thought you trusted me.” The words are playful but the tone running under his voice is steel, coiled in a spring and ready to burst, ready to leave if he decides that she is not quite what he thought of her after all. The thought rankles and Sakura wrinkles her nose at him with little dignity.

“I thought only to spare you but if you are so determined to gaze in to the void then be it on your own head. Know, however, that if madness touches you it will be _my_ head your godly mother seeks vengeance from.”

“Oh come on, she won’t hurt you. I mean she would try, obviously, but I don’t think she’d get much of a hit in on you.” Without so much as breaking expression his eyes drift down to openly admire her biceps. Sakura looks away and pretends not to be affected, hoping the warmth in her cheeks doesn’t show.

Completely contrary to what she expects, it turns out that she has worried herself over nothing. The door opens and Shikamaru steps through the door to see the truth of her rule stretching out before him, pits and towers and endless fields of eternal souls despairing and rejoicing and holding tightly to the memories of their transient lives, an intricate tableau of the mortal experience that no one but Sakura has ever truly appreciated before.

All it takes is one look at him face to know that Shikamaru appreciates it. There is a beauty to be found in such raw emotion and as his entire being lights up with wonder Sakura feels her chest swelling with pride, with joy, with so many emotions she cannot hope to name them all. Finally she is not alone. At last she is not the singular freak set apart from all the rest, the only one to see what the rest of the world refuses to even consider. So many humans have asked the question of life after death and yet the heroes that come pounding against her gates thinking themselves clever and brave look only once before recoiling and Sakura knows that they don’t _see_. They look upon death and think it an end.

Death is only the beginning.

Shikamaru’s fingers reach for hers as though unaware of their own movements and his flesh is warm when he gently guides her against him.

“I can say you’re not a liar,” he admits and Sakura tilts her head in question.

“While that is true I must admit that I do not see the relevance.”

“You said you would show me a place where I could be happy.” He turns to meet her eyes and the world itself falls away from her feet at the depth in those dark irises. “Well you were right. I could be very happy here.”

Daring to reach further, Sakura lifts her other hand to caress the side of his jaw. “Will you stay?”

She can see his answer in the way he bends down to meet her, the way he presses his body against her own. In his voice she finds the only nirvana she has ever thought to dream for.

“Yes,” he whispers. “I will stay.”

Happiness is having her very own dream come true press a kiss against her lips that tastes like freedom.

 

viii.

“Will you be missed?” she asks him after several days have passed. Shikamaru gives a lazy shrug and buries his nose deeper within the book he’s been engrossed in for the past several hours.

“My mom’s probably looking for me.”

“Should I worry?” Sakura asks, her fingers in his hair and her mind’s eye fixed on visions of a future where she and Shikamaru languish side by side for all of eternity.

Turning another page, her companion shrugs again. “Dunno. If she never thinks to look for me here then we’ll be fine.”

“Ah. Good fortune, then, that I was careful never to visit with the threat of witnesses hanging about.”

Sakura smiles to herself with a smug air and plucks a grape from the plate at her side. After much taste-testing of her own she can vouch that they are juicy and ripe, perfect for temptingly pressing one against Shikamaru’s lips until they part with a smile to accept her gift.

The feeling of his lips lingering on her fingertips is enough of a distraction that the issue is put out of her mind then and there in favor of more interesting thoughts.

 

ix.

“I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

Yoshino watches the god before her lift his proud chin and it takes everything in her not to snap, not to show this petty child the true meaning of rage. She needs the answers only he can give her and it simply won’t do to anger him. Not yet.

“You are the All-Seeing,” she says. “What boon you would have of me I will freely grant you in return for your wisdom. Turn your all seeing eyes to the earth, I beg you, oh God of the Sun. I seek no more than the location of my most beloved son.” Pretty words and a promise she has no intention of keeping but Yoshino will let worst pass her lips to find her missing child. Shikamaru belongs to her and her alone.

“Any favor at all?” Neji turns the offer over in his mind. His lavender eyes turn towards the earth but his expression is thoughtful still as though he has yet to decide.

“Whatever your heart desires.”

She does not expect him to snort derisively. “You have the power to grant nothing that my heart desires – but I would very much enjoy knowing that you _owe_ me, petty Goddess of the Harvest.”

It takes almost more effort than she is capable of giving to grind her teeth and remain silent, bowing her head as though humble and willing to serve in whatever small way he asks. For Yoshino is certain that the god of the sun can think of only small things. Surely his mind cannot be anywhere near as sharp as her own and therefore must be small and dull in comparison. It truly is a shame that she, of all the gods, was graced with the most intelligence on top of the most beautiful child. What would the world be like if she weren’t so alone in all her glory?

Neji interrupts her musings with a flat look that makes her think he is more than aware of what occupies her mind. 

“Your son is not on earth.” When Yoshino protests he rolls his all-seeing eyes and interrupts her once more. “He is, by means unknown, currently deep in the underworld with the Goddess of Death at his side. And with that I have fulfilled my end of this bargain. Remember that you owe me a favor, which I will collect at my leisure.”

“How am I to remove him from the _underworld_!?” Yoshino demands. Anywhere on earth would have been preferable but the domain of the dead is not in her purview. Her flowers and vines and growing things cannot reach for Shikamaru there to pull him back to the place where he belongs and she knows very well that such a stubborn boy will need a good deal of pulling.

“That is not my problem,” Neji reminds her. Then the sun god turns away and snaps the reins of his chariot to continue on his journey across the sky.

Yoshino is left alone with a coldness in her chest she has never felt before and a realization. Always has she taken it for granted that her child will be with her, her perfect progeny, and always has she assumed that she knows what is best for his happiness. Shikamaru is her son. He is her flesh and blood. It has always seemed immutable to her that there can be no place where he is happier than by her side and the very thought that she may be wrong in as inconceivable as the notion that she, an immortal being, may one day see the ravages of aging.

It is with practiced ease that she dismisses such unwanted thoughts. They do not make her happy and thus she feels no need to think on them any further, not when there are many more important things to consider.

Such as how to lure her son away from that dark and dismal hole where the God of Spring can never belong.

 

x.

Months have passed before the messenger of the gods appears to bring Sakura out of the haze of ecstasy that is Shikamaru. Long months filled with happiness no matter that she struggles to find a balance between attending to her duties and attending the one who captures her heart more and more with every day. Much as she is fond of Olympus’s messenger, Lee is still an unwelcome sight. He can only be here with purpose and whatever that purpose is by necessity must take her away from Shikamaru’s side.

Lee hasn’t even the grace to look ashamed of interrupting their calm revelry and so Sakura doesn’t bother to grant him the courtesy of rising from where she is lounging against her companion’s chest while he absently runs fingers through her hair, tracing the petals of a flower he invented specifically for her. The moonflower grows only in the garden she gifted to him.

“Who sent you?” she calls lazily across the room. Lee grants her a beaming smile, ever full of more energy than anyone else around him.

“Kakashi!” he cries. A favorite of all, Lee has never known formality in his life.

“And what news has the father of us all to share?”

“No news! A plea!” Clearing his throat, Lee strikes a pose. “The ruler of Olympus begs pardon for interrupting your leisure and beseeches you to please do something about the crazy goddess who set eternal winter upon the land!”

Both Sakura and Shikamaru are sitting upright in an instant with dual cries of “ _What!?_ ”

“Yosh! The Goddess of the Harvest has declared eternal winter in the throes of agony at being separated from her beloved child! In his wisdom, Kakashi asks that you return Shikamaru to his rightful place!”

“His rightful place,” Sakura snarls, “is wherever he is most happy.”

Rather than argue with her, Lee strikes yet another pose and presents her with two thumbs up. “I have fulfilled my duty!”

With that he turns and races out of the building with a burst of inhuman speed. The divine couple watches him go with no small amount of exasperation and, despite her shock at the news just delivered, Sakura finds a moment to shake her head in mild disbelief.

“Gifted with winged sandals and still he insists on running everywhere.”

“I have to go back to the surface.”

Sakura’s head snaps around to stare at her companion with wide eyes. “You have to do nothing but that which pleases you!”

“And it would _please_ me if the earth wasn’t dark with winter the whole year round.” With a sigh Shikamaru leans closer and touches his forehead to hers. “I want to stay here. You know I want nothing more than to stay here with you. But I am Spring and I can’t sit by knowing that she’s denying the purpose I was created for. I would survive but what kind of existence would it be to see my purpose fulfilled? What if you never guided another lost soul in to the afterlife?”

“Yes, I see your point,” she admits reluctantly. Her eyes close for a moment before she opens them again, greedy for one more chance to memorize his beloved features. “If you must go then know that I will think of you always.”

“Well I never said I was leaving forever.”

Shikamaru winks and Sakura realizes with weighty relief that he has a plan. Never has she been happier that she fell in love with one who carries more than two brain cells to rub together.

 

∞.

The garden is familiar yet not nearly as warm as she remembers, not with Yoshino’s eyes watching her with heavy suspicions. Sakura wonders whether her fellow goddess thinks herself unseen or if she believes her mere presence to be a deterrence against any untoward behavior. Thinking about her certainly gives Sakura a few untoward urges but this isn’t the time for that.

Shikamaru is steady and solid against her, arms wrapped about her shoulders to hold her close, a cocoon of belonging just for the two of them. His heartbeat thrums under her ear. Soft breathing ruffles the top of her hair. If she had her way in things this moment would stretch on in to eternity and they would never have to part but alas, Yoshino has outsmarted them both – surprising as that is. Perhaps Sakura needs to spend more time relearning the patterns of other living creatures if someone like Yoshino can outmaneuver her on the first try.

“It’s not forever,” Shikamaru murmurs, bending to whisper his words directly against the shell of her ear.

“Already it feels like forever has passed and you have not even left my arms.” Although Sakura is more than aware she is pouting she still does not appreciate the laughter that rumbles through her partner’s chest.

“You’ll see me again in the fall. Less than one year, that’s barely a blink for our kind.”

“Every moment without you is too long.”

Now Shikamaru is outright laughing, which she appreciates even less. “Quit being so dramatic. This is the only deal she would accept and if this is what it takes for us to be together”-he pulls away to meet her eyes-“then I will follow this agreement to the letter. Anything to go back to where I belong.”

From several feet away they can both hear the poorly hidden Yoshino grumbling to herself that this garden is where her son belongs but they ignore her easily.

“I love you,” Sakura whispers. Incredibly, Yoshino falls silent.

“I love you too. And I’ll miss you. I’d say you can visit but we should probably wait a few millennia before we ask for any concessions like that.”

Her pouting lip protrudes a little further but it does her no good. Shikamaru is still pulling away ever so gently and although she understands the necessity of it, understands the pain of having one’s very purpose suppressed across the entire world in punishment until the wayward son returns to his mother’s side, that makes it no easier to separate her from the other half of herself she has only just discovered. Shikamaru is the light she never knew she needed in her world of darkness until she saw him for the first time and her very heart itself lit up with joy. Leaning in close now she can taste a hint of that first joy on his lips.

“When the first leaves fall,” she warns him, “I will come for you.” Shikamaru does his best to look unaffected.

“Troublesome. I hate deadlines.”

“How fortuitous that I shall be the one watching the calendar go by, then.” As soon as Sakura leans forward to close the gap between them and steal a kiss they are pulled apart by insistent hands and Yoshino sends her a look filled with venom.

The Goddess of the Harvest and Fertility huffs as she draws her son against her own side instead and pretends not to see the rolling of his eyes. Entirely uncaring of her reaction Sakura blows the kiss she has been denied in Shikamaru’s direction and gathers her darkest shadows around her in preparation to leave this place. As per the agreement, she will stay in her domain until the winter comes and she may be reunited with her love once more.

“Until it is your turn to rest, oh beautiful Spring,” she calls.

And with that she is gone in a twist of darkness, to return for that which belongs to her when the time is right, and an endless cycle begins.

**Author's Note:**

> In most versions of this myth Hades tricks Persephone into eating a pomegranate seed to bind her to the Underworld, forcing her to come back to him each year. For obvious reasons I said "not today" to that particular little detail. :p


End file.
